1982 – California
MICHAEL
You were workin' as a waitress in a cocktail bar.
When I met you.
I picked you out, I shook you up and turned you around.
Turned you into someone new...
Friday arrived. As soon as I stepped onto the red carpet, paparazzi mobbed. The Disc Jockey picked out a Human League record. Rhythms shook from inside the nightclub. I smiled time and time again for once. As I've said, the cameras flashed usually bothered me. Now though, I felt at peace. At least I knew someone who worked here. It wasn't like those typical industry parties that grouped peers I'd only viewed in droves. I knew one of the servers. A hardworking woman built her monetary future these days. I knew that Kim always dreamed of performing, but she never took shortcuts throughout the journey. All on her own.
Club owner Elliott shook my hand in his office first. Two bodyguards stood near his door in the name of patrolling. Bill and his other security members lurked outside this location as well. Elliott rolled the sleeve of his dress shirt and leaned across the table with a notepad. I laughed to myself for a moment. He'd remember all of my requests with a write-up. A sigh left his lips before long.
"Okay, let's go through this again before we go up to VIP, Michael. I've blocked off a space for you..." Elliott slipped a pen out of his side pocket. As the repeated needs piled more and more, I stared down at my watch. While excited about this place, I now felt bored. Elliott didn't need to run down everything again for me. I wasn't stupid and honestly wanted to see Kim instead. I could only imagine how this woman raced from one spot to another the jam-packed location.
Still, I wondered if club owner Elliott felt star-struck for just downright nervous. Before I could speak up, Elliott finally stood up from his desk. We shared one last handshake and began to walk out. One of my bodyguards had already open the door. One more security member his fingers on the earpiece nearby.
I quickly walked into the strobe light madness with Elliott. The bodyguards tailed behind without hesitation. As we moved upward on these colorful stairs, I immediately recognized faces. Bruce Springsteen sloshed liquor in his glass. Annie Lennox chuckled not too far away. David Bowie sat cross-legged while flirting with a model. Her complexion favored brilliant artist Grace Jones as this woman hugged curves into a miniskirt.
Elliott slapped my shoulder from behind. His words then pledged that I'd have fun. I quickly took his word just before this man walked off. The bodyguards who stood near us stalked toward another direction. I sat down in an empty chair that located near David and his "girl." As soon as we all locked eyes, David stood to brush off his pants. We first met as far back as my Jackson Five days, but lost touch in one way or another.
"How are you, Michael? It's been quite some time." His strong but intelligent accent headed toward me before long. I already shook hands with him and kissed his "girl's" cheek. We all exchanged more grins seconds later. Just when I could respond, David turned his head. I immediately followed his direction. Even his "date" looked near the glowing staircase. In that moment, I smiled for the millionth time.
Kim entered this upper level while holding a tray full of orders. David immediately excused himself from us and walked over. Kim "hugged" the legend with a free arm. She then giggled after David kissed her cheek out of respect. Before long, she excused herself from David and promised a returned. This woman passed everything from Shrimp Cocktails to Buffalo Wings and alcohol.
By the time she emptied that tray, I already started walking toward her. Bass thundered right underneath my favorite Penny Loafers. At this point, she scribbled on her yellow notepad for David. Kim molded her physique into a humble black-white uniform. A nametag fastened onto the left side of that blouse. Her curls clipped back in the name of professional behavior.
"Can I order now?" I whispered close to one of her modest earrings. David tossed his head back laugh when Kim almost jumped. Karma was a beautiful thing right now. I'd received payback from what happened earlier that week. She turned to face and dropped her jaw. A dark shade rounded those possibly scrumptious lips.
"Yes. Welcome, Mike. What would you like to have this evening?" Kim cleared her throat. This woman even remained professional and wouldn't slap my arm or something. The music changed, but I didn't recognize it beats. I opened space between us, finally calming down laughter.
"I'll make it easy for you, girl. I want a Shrimp Cocktail with sauce, one glass of Jack Daniel, and water just to be safe." Between words, I bite my lips and watched her side profile. Stray curls still dropped around her face, but didn't seen invasive. Kim scribbled the order with painted fingernails. Too dark to see underneath the strobe light, but I didn't even care once more.
"Okay, Mike I'll be back. See you guys in a little bit." Kim stopped scribbling to face me and winked. Her hips now swayed back and forth, and this woman tucked the tray underneath her arm. She even walked back down the stairs in heels without even dropping the happiness.
Damn, she's good. I thought to myself.
